


And I touch myself like it's somebody else

by Ivyfics (ivannab)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bodyswap, Kinktober, M/M, but that's about it?, there's a tiny bit of exhibitionism, this is very tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 04:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12357822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivannab/pseuds/Ivyfics
Summary: He freezes. This is not his room. He’s talking to himself on the phone. With not his voice.“Oh.” A sharp inhale, followed by regret at the choking caused by the cold air. “Oh. Oh, no.”His not-voice is very familiar. “Tsukki?”Phone him, the one with his real voice breathes in. “Hearing that with my own voice is so goddamn creepy, holy fuck.”This is happening. Okay. Tetsurou says the first thing that comes to mind. “We’ve been freaky-fridayed. This is awesome.”Kinktober # 5: Bodyswap





	And I touch myself like it's somebody else

**Author's Note:**

> Tis done. Do I want it to be longer and better, more fleshed out? Yes. 
> 
> Do I also want this out of my kinktober wips? Hell. Yes.
> 
> The title is from [ this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqVNmfGJRP0)

Day one is a joke.

Someone’s phone is going off next to his head.

It’s been going off for a while now, filtering in and blending in with the dream he was having. An alarm underwater is strange to say the least but it still takes a couple of loops for his sleep addled mind to realise it’s not part of dreamland.

Whomever’s phone it is, they’re a dick. They’re also really close, that ringtone is in his ear and _just won’t quit._

He reaches out, hand flailing until he hits something small and loud. Somehow, he makes it stop.

It’s right next to his face where he buried himself in pillows when it starts again, green button lighting up.

Did he leave his phone in bed with him? “Y’llo?”

“If you do anything weird to my body I’ll murder you.”

He’s talking to himself. Through the phone? “Wha?”

His voice scoffs, sour. “You’re still sleeping, of course you are, you lazy bum. And what the fuck is up with how you sleep? No wonder your hair is such a fucking mess all the goddamn time.”

“Uhm. What.” This is not right. First of all, he sounds way too bitter so early in the morning. He drifts off, burying his face in the fabric in front of him and wow, it’s so soft. His pillows are really working it today. Phone Tetsurou is still talking to him, periodical barking filtering in the midst of his dozing.

The latest one is sharp enough to startle him out of sleep, body jerking. “Kuroo! Get. Up.”

His mouth feels like cotton and his eyes are shut and blurry with sleep. Blinking it out a couple of times does not help. “I can’t see?”

Phone Tetsurou helps. “Glasses are on the bedside table.”

“Thanks. Are you me? Is this a dream?”

“Will you just put on the glasses!”

He can’t really see the bedside table, but he smashes his hand around until it hits something plasticky. Shoving them on with way too much strength, he has a throbbing cheek and nothing else.

He freezes. This is not his room. He’s talking to himself on the phone. With not his voice.

“Oh.” A sharp inhale, followed by regret at the choking caused by the cold air. “Oh. Oh, no.”

His not-voice is very familiar. “Tsukki?”

Phone him, the one with his real voice breathes in. “Hearing that with my own voice is so goddamn creepy, holy fuck.”

This is happening. Okay. Tetsurou says the first thing that comes to mind. “We’ve been freaky-fridayed. This is awesome.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

His–Tsukki’s– voice is trembling with rage, something he has never heard from either of them before. “Awesome? You think this is awesome. You would.”

Tsukki sputters, plowing on.“You, you– you and your soft ass hair. It looks like a rat’s nest, how the fuck is it so soft. And who the fuck do you think you are, being able to just wake up and see? For free! I have to pay– fucking, glasses and you’re out here seeing shit for free and sleeping naked with you soft hair and you think this is awesome.”

Kuroo looks down to his not-body. He’s wearing a soft cotton shirt with little leaves on it. He’s trying to process Tsukki’s rant, and this whole whatever that is happening, when the word naked jumps out.  It’s the wrong thing to fixate on. “You like me naked?”

There’s a hitch on the other end, and that sounds familiar enough to make it jarring. “Oh, shit. You’re actually freaking out. Get it? Freaki– not the time, okay, um. Don’t?”

“I hate you.”

“Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Uhm, Tsukishima?”

The answer is grunt and nothing else. “I’m heading over and we’ll figure this out. That cool?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I still hate you.”

It such a Tsukki thing to say that he can bypass the fact that it his voice saying it and pulls a smile. “Wouldn’t doubt it. Underwear is on the second drawer, pj’s on the last.”

Kuroo thinks he’s right to assume Tsukki’s not going to want to go outside anytime soon. Not until they fix this. If they can fix this.

Okay, avoiding _that_ train of thought.

* * *

When Tetsurou gets to his own apartment it’s after taking twice as much time as he normally would from around that distance.

Being in Tsukishima Kei’s body is distracting.

One, Tsukki has longer limbs and it takes a while to get used to having that much leg. He feels like he’s back in those teenage years when he just hit his growth spurt and was as graceful as a limping duck.

Two, Tsukki is distracting on a regular basis. Now when he runs a hands through his hair he’s actually running Tsukki’s hand through Tsukki’s hair. You can see why he stood there like moron sliding his palm against his arm and his face and alternating between having his glasses on and off.

Tsukki doesn’t sleep naked but he might as well with how short those sleeping shorts are. They might be regular shorts that are tiny on his frame, and is it weird if you get turned on by looking at yourself? It’s technically not himself, but it feels like it would be weird and Tsukki’s shout when he first picked up the phone runs through his head.  

Since then a _as little touching as possible_ rule is established.

Yeah, he wants to jerk off in Tsukki’s body but he isn’t that much of a creep to do it even when Tsukki said to do nothing.

Yamaguchi gives him a weird look when he manages to stumble out of Tsukki’s room, grateful that Tsukki is organized enough to keep his ID and all his transport cards together. It’s an odd enough look that even without knowing Yamaguchi that well he can tell it’s a strange expression.

If Tsukki wasn’t actually freaking out right now, and if Tetsurou wasn’t afraid the shock of the situation would wear off and then _he_ would be freaking out, he would have stayed behind and fucked with Yamaguchi a little.

He’s lucky he’s never had an inclination to move the spare key taped to the back of the potted plant Kenma gave him when he moved by himself, so he can waltz in into his own apartment without a hitch.

Kuroo saw himself in the mirror before he left. He saw Tsukki’s  face where his face was moving, Tsukki hands move when he waved into the mirror. It still did not prepare him to walk in and find himself standing in front of the stove making pancakes.

“Damn. I look hot when cooking.”

Kei jumps, spatula in hand. _“Jesus fucking Christ!”_

Kuroo walks up to the counter, drops the bag he packed with extra clothes and toiletries on the floor. “I think saying that is blasphemous but whatever rocks your boat, I guess.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kei stares him down and funnily enough Kei’s signature glare translates perfectly. Apparently _scum of the earth_ is universal. “Do you have to be a sneaky rat and come in without making a sound, you fuck.”

Per usual, Tetsurou does not care. “Huh, so is the cursing stress induced?”

Kei brings his hands to rub at his eyes, spatula still in hand and jutting to the side. He takes a couple of breaths while murmuring, “This has to be a dream. I have to be sleeping, this cannot be reality.”

Tetsurou slides closer, hip leaning on the counter, and sneaks his hand to steal one of the golden pancakes already stacked on a plate to the side.

“Ow, what the hell!”

Free hand held in front where he grabbed skin and twisted, he brings a bite of pancake to his mouth. “Pinched you. Not dreaming.”

“I’ve said it before but I have never in my life meant the words ‘ _I hate you’_ more than I do now.”

Kuroo ignores him, scarfing down another half of pancake before speaking again. “So we’ve been switched. The old switcheroo. The big swap. Freaky-fridayed. Parent trapped.”

It works and Tsukki fixates on that instead of the look of panic that was slowly creeping onto his–Tetsurou’s?– face. “Parent Trap has absolutely nothing to do with this. Stop making my face say things like that.”

Tetsurou laughs. The higher pitched pearls of laughter sound odd to him before he snorts. It brings a smile to his face. “Relax.”

Tsukki is not amused. “Relax? Relax. _Chill_.”

Tsukki turns of the stove, grabs a pancake from the plate and chucks it at Tetsurou’s face, then storms off into the bedroom, door slamming behind him.

Tetsurou shrugs.

Things would probably be fine by tomorrow. A joke from the universe, they’ll all have a hearty laugh and tell this story when they get drunk at parties. No biggie.

* * *

Day three finds him angry.

Couldn’t this have happened with Bokuto?

If he and Bokuto had swapped bodies instead, everything would have been fine. Their friendship is cool enough to take it without the strain that his and Tsukki’s precarious friendship already has.

He has to fucking swap with the one person he’s trying very hard not to completely annoy.

Do you know how fun it is to fuck with Tsukki?

Ever since Bokuto latched onto him and slowly reeled him into their group of friends after being assigned to show him around during orientation, messing with Tsukki has been Tetsurou’s life goal.

Can he do that now without feeling like an absolute ass? No, because Tsukki is actually freaking out about this and doing stupid things is shitty.

Tetsurou’s going crazy.

Do you know how hard it is not to poke yourself when you’re outside your body? It’s eerie to be able to see how you look to other people.

If it wouldn’t get him killed he would be poking, rubbing and groping his body all day long.

Instead he’s writing emails to his professors about he’s not going to be able to attend for the next couple of days.   

His body is sinking in the bean chair piled on the corner of his tiny living room, ass going numb. Tsukki’s ass is so bony, he’s having to turn on his side ever so often. His clothes are short and wide on his frame and there’s a couple of uncovered inches of ankle, something that immediately pulled on his mood the second he slid into his favorite sweats.

His fingers are too long to type properly and his nails are too short actually scratch at him when his phantom itching flares up. His ankles are cold, there are way too many typos to be corrected in his very serious _I’m-not-fooling-around-with-bokuto-this-time_ email, his beanbag chair is hurting his back because apparently Tsukki’s body is cursed with never being comfortable, he’s lowkey horny, and he’s pissed.

Day three is a fucking nightmare. It’s like he can’t focus on anything for too long.

He tries to type but then he’s startled by how his hands are a little too slender, fingers too long, shade too light. His head is higher than it normally would be on the wall so it’s not comfortable but he’s too stubborn to give up on it. Kuroo is going to find a way to make himself sit here because this is his favorite spot in his entire house and it makes him relax immediately but he can’t focus because his body doesn’t feel right.

Tetsurou snorts and slams his laptop closed.

It doesn’t feel right because it’s not his fucking body, it’s Tsukki’s body and he _is in it_ for some reason, still.

He woke up this morning not being able to see, everything blurry and his heart thundered in his ears until he leaped from his bed only to get tangled on his own legs. That’s where Tsukki found him, before handing his, _Tsukki’s_ , glasses, and the first thing he had seen was himself.

Tetsurou’s breath hitches.

He might be freaking out.

That’s fine. He’s having a delayed reaction to the whole thing. He honestly believed they would go to sleep and wake up fine, chalking up this to a cosmic event mortals wouldn’t understand and that’s that.

Obviously, he was wrong.

Regulating his breath with his eyes closed, he stays that way until his voice interrupts him. “Kuroo, did you send the emails?”

It’s coming from the room, far away. When there’s no answer from him it starts coming closer. Tsukki stomps his way next to him, his hand waving in front of Kuroo’s face until they’re looking at each other. “Kuroo?”

“Could you,” he beings, tongue peeking out to wet his dry lip, “say my name?”

Tsukki needs to invest in some lip balm. Shit. _He_ needs to invest in some lip balm.

Tsukki sounds wary but complies. “Kuroo?”

“The first one, please.”

“Tetsurou?” Tsukki begins again, hesitant, “Are you freaking out?”

Lungs not feeling like they’re about to implode and eyes burning a little less, he clears his throat  a couple of times before answering. “Yeah.”

That deep cringe you feel when you hear playbacks of yourself for the first time settles in his shoulders. Still, Tsukki sounds understanding, tone bleeding into Tetsurou’s voice. It makes sense, seeing as Tetsurou had spent the best part of two hours gently coaxing him out of the bedroom and then completely ignoring his red eyes that first day. “Did the name help?”

“A little. Want me to say yours?”

“...Sure.”

Licking his dry lips, he enunciates the best he can. He has to see Tsukki’s reaction, so he locks eyes with him. “Kei.”

Tsukki shudders, looking at him with disgust. “Fucking weird.”

He smiles, exhaustion showing on his features. “Ain’t it?”

Tetsurou can see it, that same tightness he feels on his shoulder, how Tsukki avoids looking at himself and opts to bury his eyes on things around the room for the most part. “Thought it helped?”

“Don’t wanna cry anymore. Too weirded out.”

He shrugs. “If it works. Sent the emails?

Tetsurou points at the computer on his lap. “Working on it.”

They talk about something and nothing at the same time for a little longer, a distraction. Tetsurou desperately needed it and he’s thankful Tsukki stayed and pulled him out of that headspace for a while. When Tsukki clambers up from where he was and starts to shuffle away through the doorway, Tetsurou stops him. “Tsukk–Tsukishima?”

Tsukki turns, face as tired as Tetsurou feels. “We’re going to figure this out.”

He tries to give Tetsurou a smile, hand fisting on the slightly too-long sleeve of the sweater he’s wearing. It’s one of the couple Tetsurou packed when he left Tsukki’s apartment. “Yeah. We are.”

He wonders if he sounded as unsure as Tsukki did.

* * *

Day five is strange.

They watch Freaky Friday. Also that movie where a hairy dude and a cheerleader switch bodies.

To have some guidelines and stuff.

By the time the second hour of movie watching comes around they don’t think of why they started in the first place. Instead, they throw popcorn–Tetsurou’s idea– at the screen and talk shit about all of the characters.

It’s the most normal Tetsurou has felt in the past week. In fact, it’s _fun_.

They sit there and watch movies for hours and hours, original goal forgotten in shouted reviews and the glare of the screen when the sky outside turns dark.

* * *

Day seven is _Nightmare pt.2_ for Kuroo.

They can’t keep skipping class. Even with all the extra studying they’re going to have to pull off after this, having them marked absent without a doctor or an actual medical condition to back them up is not happening.

They try prepping as much as they can, giving each other pointers and instructions. Kei’s–Tetsurou has taken to calling him that since calling him Tsukki makes Kei have an expression that makes his chest hurt, and Kuroo refuses to call him Tsukishima anymore, he earned moving past his family name with blood, sweat, tears, and shame– instructions are simple.

Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t smirk. If he needs to participate, keep it to the bare minimum. Don’t. Make. Jokes.

Kei wrote them down on a post-its and put them on the front cover of every text book Kuroo would need the next day.

They did a small fashion show of sorts, Kei slipping into his apartment to grab some more clothes when he knew Yamaguchi would be in class and leaving a note behind.

If they switched styles after being absent for a while it’d be weird, right?

That’s the reason why. Not because they want to play dress up and have some fun. All professional reasons.

They’re close in size enough that things don’t look too off if they want to wear something of their own but they try to stick to the others regular fashion pattern.

Even when dressed in Tetsurou’s clothes, hair styled in his regular way, _in Tetsurou’s body_ , he can tell it’s Kei in there, those eyes giving him away immediately.

They laugh and they throw jabs at each other and for a couple of hours things are alright.

But.

Tetsurou is worried.

His and Kei’s majors are close enough for them to have shared basic subjects. Tetsurou can handle Kei’s classes, he’s been there before. Kei has not. He’s smart enough to get by, so that’s not the source of his concern.

Bokuto’s been messaging him. So has Kenma.

Kei's phone has none other than 17 missed calls and 300 message notifications, the majority of them from Yamaguchi.

They need to figure out what to do about their lives.

Piles of clothes line the floor, the entirety of Tetsurou’s clothes spread around the room while they lounge criss-cross applesauce on the floor. Tetsurou’s face is buried in the softest sweater he has ever felt, courtesy of Kei. “We could tell them.”

Kei rolls his eyes at him mockingly. “How do you suppose that will go. _Hey friends, we have an announcement. Remember that Jamie Lee Curtis classic, Freaky Friday?_ ”

Irritation climbing, Tetsurou prays for patience. If there is anything he has learned this week is that the words _stubborn_ and _frustrating_ were invented for the specific purpose of dealing with Tsukishima Kei. “If I don’t answer soon Bokuto is going to slam down the door to this apartment and there’s a very big possibility Yamaguchi already reported you missing.”

“I don’t want to deal with them right now.”

“You can’t just ignore people until they go away.”

Kei looks straight at him. “Watch me. Been doing it all my life.”

“Fucking, Tsukki–”

“Don’t call me that!”

Tetsurou has to chill. That was his bad. Finding some semblance of calm, Tetsurou tries again. “Kei. This sucks. We don’t know how long we’ll be stuck like this. I don’t know about you but I’d rather deal with this without having to completely undermine and destroy other aspects of my life.”

Kei is silent, mulling it over. “How are you so sure they’ll believe you. Me. Us.”

“How are you so sure that they won’t,” Tetsurou counters.

Kei slams his hands on his–Tetsurou’s–thighs. “What kind of life do you lead where telling your friends that you switched bodies with someone else is absolutely normal?!”

Tetsurou waves his words away. “It’s Bokuto and Kenma. When I was sixteen I told Bokuto I was a vampire and he believed me for a week until he saw me eating garlic knots. He offered to feed me. Like his blood. Kenma’s basically a witch. It’s going to be fine.”

Kei lets him stew, narrowed eyes staring him down until he relents. “I’m only telling Yamaguchi. If he passes out, it’s on you.”

* * *

Yamaguchi does pass out, right after slapping Tetsurou in the face.

Kei knows better than to get in the war zone of a Yamaguchi that has been stretched way too thin. He would’ve slapped himself too, if he pulled that kind of bullshit.

You don’t disappear for almost a week with barely any contact without having people worry about you.

Tadashi is used to Kei’s self-isolating tendencies, so a day or three with minimal contact isn’t unusual. They live together so he knows Kei is fine and there.

Kei knows he should have said something. He couldn’t deal with both behaving like a healthy adult and being in Kuroo Tetsurou’s body at the same time. Breathing room and all that.

Instead, he–Kei’s meatsack–shows up walking like an asshole, because that is how Tetsurou walks no matter what he says, and gives the creepiest smile to ever come out of Kei’s face.

Before Kei can open his mouth to tell him off, he can see it.

Yamaguchi is so angry. Relieved, but angry. Better to move away from the splash zone.

Then Tetsurou opens his mouth.

“It might seem weird but me and Kei switched bodies and that why he hasn’t been home.”

The resounding slap is enough to take Kuroo by surprise and have him fall on his ass.

Yamaguchi is beyond angry. “Explain. Without jokes.”

Kuroo looks up at him from where he’s leaning on the wall for support, fingers prodding at his red cheek, mouth slack. “You knew this was going to happen. You weren’t scared to tell him. You just didn’t want to get slapped.”

Unwillingly, Kei can feel the corner of his mouth lift. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Tsukki!”

“I told you, don’t call me that!”

“Oh god. You’re not joking. You-you, and you. I need a minute,” Yamaguchi interrupts.

He looks green.

Tetsurou looks unsure.“Is he okay?”

“You heard him, he needs a minute,” Kei shrugs.

A thud hits their ears, both of them turning to see a sprawled Yamaguchi on the ground.

Kei sighs, “Told you.”

* * *

“I can get him,” Kei points at where Bokuto is examining his–Kuroo’s–elbow, “and surprisingly him,” shifting to point where Kenma is inspecting Kuroo with narrowed eyes,“but you? Why are you taking this so well?”

“Saw a mermaid once. After that things are,” Akaashi shrugs as if to finish that sentence with a _meh,_ and takes another bite of his sandwich.

* * *

Tetsurou might have made a joke or two today, and he might have gotten a weird look all three times. It’s not like he’s going to tell Kei about this when they sit down for dinner together.

They’ve gotten in the habit of waiting for each other to have dinner and to tell each other everything that’s happened.

To keep up for when they switch, you know?

It’s nice, to go over their day together.  

* * *

Day twelve is the breaking point.

Tetsurou is used to morning wood, involuntary wood, boxers rubbed the wrong way wood, what the fuck wood, you name it.

He’s a healthy guy, prime of his youth, beats his meat fairly regular.

Being in Tsukishima’s body is insane.

Tsukki gets hard like nobody’s business and even when he doesn’t, Tetsurou’s been horny nonstop since he woke up half-blind and blonde. It takes absolutely nothing to get him going.  
  
Is this what Tsukki feels all the time? How does he get anything done?

Tetsurou needs to jerk off.

He wouldn’t be opposed to a hand-job but it’s weird when it’s coming from himself. Not like _himself_ himself, but his body self. Like Tsukki in his body, and wow they need a better way to differentiate this.

Maybe bursting in where Kei is working on his laptop on the beanbag chair isn’t the best idea, but when has Tetsurou been known for those? “We need to fix this. Or I need to get you off.”

Kei stares. “What?”

His hands run through his hair, exasperation pulling on every line. “Not _you_ you, me you. Me-in-your-body you. Are you always this horny?”

“...Yes?”

Kei looks like a deer in the headlights.

Tetsurou is over it. “So? Can I get off?”

“I–I don’t know.”

“C’mon. I might not be you levels of horny all the time but even in normal circumstances I would have jerked off at least three times by now.”

“I know,” Kei looks away with a blush.

Tetsurou  gasps. “Tsukki! You jerked me off?!”

“No! Wait, yes. I didn’t know you were holding back or something! We still have to live in these bodies in the meantime.”

Tetsurou goes for the slow disappointed head shake. “Here was I, a perfect gentleman, trying to find the reason why we ended up like this in the first place while dying to get off and you’ve been fucking myself the whole time!”

“Don’t say it like that,” Kei blanches.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird,” Kei mumbles, tacking something at the end.

Tetsurou presses, because he can. “What was that?”

Kei clears his throat, “I never said you couldn’t.”

“You said, and I quote, _‘If you do anything weird to my body I’ll murder you.’_ ”

“I meant like draw on my body with makers, or walk around naked, or shave my head, not jerk off,” Kei says, petulant. “Sorry for doing it without asking.”

Tetsurou doesn’t pay him any mind, pulling off his socks. “Oh. It’s cool. I’ll. Uh, catch up.”

“You’re doing it right now!?” Kei looks around, clutching his laptop. “Here? In front of me?”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before. Or maybe you haven’t,” Tetsurou says, fighting with his jeans. He stops, suddenly.  “I have an idea. You should jerk off, too.”

“For the tenth thousandth time, what?”

Yeah, this has to be the best idea Tetsurou's had in a while. “You actually haven’t seen yourself get off before, have you? I haven’t. Aren’t you curious?”

“I’m.” Kei’s laptop slams shut. “I’m going to remove myself from this situation.”

* * *

Kei is trying very hard to not think about what’s been going on in the room behind the door he shut to protect himself for the last hour or so. Thinking about _that_ is probably what got them in this pickle in the first place, maybe.

There’s nothing else Kei can think of that would make whoever runs the universe think this was a good idea. So he thought about Tetsurou touching himself and how he’d do it when having some private time. Was that a green light to throw them into his mess? Kei doesn’t think so.

Is he ever going to tell Tetsurou about it? Fuck. No.

He’d have some crazy idea like doing it again, or having them both do it, or some other idea that would make Kei lose it.

Oh wait, he already did, no help needed.

The past week has not helped Kei’s little crush in the least. At all. Not even an iota.

It has made everything worse.

If they don’t find a way to switch back soon Kei will _have_ to tell him. He’ll have to do the right thing and be stupid and confess and make everything really awkward for a while considering he just admitted to jerking off in Tetsurou’s body.

Kei thought Tetsurou would do the same, honest. He's... flattered? Pleased? That Tetsurou would take his words so seriously. 

Ruminations coming to an end with the door opening violently, there stands his crush ( the one currently inhabiting his body, so really he’s the one standing there) naked, cock hard and looking miserable. “Tsukki. Help me.”

Before Kei can say or think anything,Tetsurou is coming closer,  “I can’t, fuck, I can’t get off.”

Kei’s surprisingly okay with this. He figured there was a chance it’d come to this, knowing how his own body works. Still, he stares and says, “This is very wei–”

Tetsurou cuts him off, voice desperate in a way Kei has never heard from himself before, “Weird, yes, I know, I’m sorry but please get me to come at least once.”

“You’ve been hard the whole time?”

Kuroo’s only answer is a pathetic whine.

Deep breath.“Okay, uhm, what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, how do you touch yourself normally? I mean I _am_ you, but I’m not, and what I do to _me_ isn’t working and I don’t know how to touch you, like my-body-you I know but-

“Tetsurou,” Kei stops him, “What do you want me to do.”

“Help me come,” Tetsurou pleads.

Steeling himself, Kei rises from his sitting position against Tetsurou’s headboard. He’s going to keep it cool and help out and not think about how easy it’d be to make Tetsurou come all over himself with the knowledge he possesses. “I can do that. Uhm, lay down.”

“What, why?”

“Being shorter than you freaks me out so lay down?”

Tetsurou doesn’t fight him anymore, laying down across the bed and looking up at him. What the hell is he supposed to do now? “Did you uhm–try,”

“Tsukki, whatever it is you’re thinking, I’ve tried.”

“So you fingered yourself,” Kei says bluntly, trying to think if Tetsurou would be the kind to keep sex toys and use them, and to have his head not explode from asking.

Kuroo voice is shocked into a higher pitch. “You need to finger yourself to come?”

Okay, so Tetsurou hasn’t really tried a lot.  Kei shrugs, feeling less inadequate now that he sees how Tetsurou solves problems. “Only when I go too long without.”

“So we’re going to need lube. That’s alright. That’s fine.”

Tetsurou doesn’t sound fine. He sounds like he’s not processing.

“You could just… let it go away.”

Tetsurou looks like Kei just suggested they murder a puppy. Powering through it is.

Kei searches for the lube, finds it under the bed and hands it over to Tetsurou.

Even if it is like watching himself in a mirror the knowledge that it’s Tetsurou spreading his legs and bringing lubed fingers to his entrance is sending a throbbing down Kei’s pants.

Tetsurou is a fucking disaster.

No, really, Kei is wincing. “Have you ever fingered yourself at all?”

Tetsurou shoots him an offended look, as if he wasn’t mauling Kei’s body with whatever the hell it is he was doing. “Whenever I bottom they always stretch me out!”

Kei stares, dumbfounded. “I cannot believe this. You’re a pillow princess.”  

“Sorry I don’t need a ten step process to orgasm,” Tetsurou crosses his arms, pouting.

“A ten step–” Provoked, Kei presses his fingers into Kuroo’s perineum and pushes in retaliation.

Tetsurou’s responding yelp is cut off with a half moan, whole body shuddering before looking at Kei with wide eyes. “What the hell was that!?” He lifts his hand, spreads his fingers. “Doesn’t matter, do it again. Touch me like I’m you, go crazy.”

Kei is stunned at the reaction.

At the power he wields with Kuroo and his body at his mercy. “You are me, kinda.”

Tetsurou smiles, spreading himself wider to let Kei do his thing. “This is so weird.”

Kei slaps his knee, rolls his eyes.

“What I’ve been saying the whole damn time.”

* * *

Tetsurou doesn’t need much help getting off anymore, but he stills asks. Kei does, too.

The first couple of times were very one-sided, and Tetsurou put his foot down. There’s no reason both of them shouldn’t feel good, especially since it deprives him of the chance to show off and make Kei come harder than ever.

They don’t do much other than that. They help each other get off with their hands, their fingers.

One time they simply watch each other, giving the other pointers on how to please their bodies better.

It’s a warped narcissism and it makes Tetsurou hot in different way than when it’s just him.

It doesn’t beat having a helping hand, so they don’t do it again, but how many people can say that they’ve seen how an orgasm looks flush on their skin?

* * *

Day Twelve is fucking great.

They kiss for the first time, and it’s weird as hell but it doesn’t matter that he’s kissing his own body because he’s kissing Kei.

Fuck yeah.

Kuroo is swaddled in pillows, the beanbag chair that was by the corner now pushed in front of the screen. His ass doesn’t feel as bony anymore, but he knows it still is and of all the minute changes that drive him into a panic, he’s grateful for that particular reprieve.

It’s raining and they’re watching a movie. Keeping the brain busy with whatever entertainment is available keeps them both from falling into a ‘ _What is it that makes me, me?_ ’ spiral, so they consume as much as possible.

They fall into it anyway.

Kei is next to him, chin resting on the top of his knees. Kei’s tendency to curl inwards when sitting hasn’t changed, even in a different person’s body, and it’s fun to watch. He’s caught himself staring a lot.

They don’t try to imitate each other’s expressions, always try to keep a neutral face in an unspoken rule. Tetsurou hasn’t smirked since he’s been in Kei’s body and he hasn’t felt inclined to. He doesn’t want to get comfortable.

It’s Kei’s eyes that do him in. That _look_ , it could never be anyone else's.

Accidentally admitting you like the life in someone’s eyes when they are inhabiting your body can be confusing, convoluted, and Kuroo stumbles through the whole thing, the entire point of it to tell Kei that he’s still him, even in Kuroo’s body.

He has a crush on that look and he, like an idiot, says as much.

It’s fine, more than fine, because Kei kisses him. They close their eyes and they forget that they’re kissing themselves and focus on each other.

Tsukishima Kei has a crush on him. On him.

This whole time.

Kei _likes_ him. Kei liked him before this whole thing, and he's inhabited the mess that is Tetsurou’s twitchy body, has shared quarters with him for almost two weeks and _still_ likes him.

The switch has done a lot of shit but this kinda makes up for a lot of it in Tetsurou’s mind.

It’s a new playing field from there on. Making out is game, as long as they aren’t having an off-body day or moment. There are days where he doesn’t want to touch or be touched. Sometimes Kei doesn’t.

When that happens they sit side by side, watching a movie, looking for comfort.  

When they do, they kiss, over and over, with their hands down their pants, Kei two fingers deep in him or the other way around until they’re both rosy and breathing deep.

* * *

Day fourteen is bad.

Kei got a call from his dad. He couldn’t pick up, couldn’t bring himself to do it, eyes shiny.

Tetsurou didn’t dare.

He can hear Kei cry from where he has been sleeping on the couch.

It’s a low sort of brokenness, more hitched breaths than loud weeping.

It makes Tetsurou shrivel where he’s under his blankets, feeling cold and empty, only finding sleep when everything has gone quiet.

* * *

Day sixteen is also bad, but Tetsurou is the one crying this time.

It’s not easy. He’s getting used to this body, to what makes it tick. It’s starting to feel _his_.

It makes his skin crawl sometimes.

Some other times, he can't find himself in it. 

Today, they were having lunch with everyone and someone called out for Tetsurou. His hand was already halfway through the air, head perking up, when Bokuto grabbed it, brought it back down.

Bokuto saved his skin, even as Kei went as pale as Tetsurou’s ever been.

The door creaks and a weight settles next to him on the bed, tucking itself to his side.

After that they don’t use the couch anymore.

* * *

Day twenty-two is. It just is.

Someone calls out for Tsukishima and he turns without thinking. Kei doesn’t even notice until Tetsurou tells him at dinner.  

There’s worse people to share a body with, he thinks.

* * *

“I think I might love you, or come to love you. The whole swap thing makes it hard to settle because I feel like I think this about _you_ but when I say it I’m looking at me, but yeah.”

  
Tetsurou laughs, close to tears. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

* * *

Day thirty is great, in Tetsurou's book.

They’ve been holding back.

What’s the point? They don’t know if they’ll ever go back to how they were.

At this point Tetsurou’s hope has dwindled into a low spark.

It’s him who cracks first. They’re mouthing at each other, desperate. Tetsurou might have jumped on Kei first thing after getting to his apartment.

He’s been so hot all day, thinking about nothing but his dick and how it rubbed against the fabric of his pants. “Fuck me,” he pants on Kei’s lips, “I want you in me. Fuck me.”

“Are you sure, that pretty w–”

Tetsurou dismisses it. “Weird. Newsflash, we’re weird. I’m okay with weird if it mean it gets you inside me.”

He might have turned into a narcissist because the way Kei is looking at him is making him hot as hell. Kei smiles, the sardonic one that doesn’t blend into Tetsurou’s face, makes Tetsurou’s itch turn into an ache, “I mean, it’s your dick.”

Tetsurou nods, excited. “We have to do this. For science.”

He breaks away from Kei, sprinting to the bedroom with a shout. Sets to find lube and condoms. Lays out everything real nice and neat so that it’s ready to use next to him on the bed, and looks over to the doorway where Kei is looking at him.

Tetsurou pats the place next to his, only to be met with Kei’s raised eyebrow. Kei doesn’t move but nods in his direction. “Didn’t you want to get fucked? Get ready.”

“Aren’t you…”

“Going to prep you?” Kei shakes his head, amusement showing plainly, along with something else. “I taught you how. Show me.”

Tetsurou swallows his tongue, breath faltering. Being with Kei is like being swallowed up by the dark, he can’t think, can’t do anything other than whatever will help them get off easier. Kei did teach him, after than one disastrous time he tried when he couldn’t make himself come.

It is, by far, the hottest thing that has ever happened to him in his life.

Kei behind him, thighs encasing his, voice in his ears. Touching him, guiding his hand, leading Tetsurou how to touch himself to that he could spread properly with their hands twined.

Just the thought of it has him stripping and reaching for the lube faster, spreading it on his fingers carefully, warming it a little between his fingers.

Tetsurou makes sure Kei is watching, that he’s properly being watched, exposed.  

Kei’s golden gaze is a physical weight on his skin, the spreading flush creeping slowly up from his clavicle, to the back of his neck, into his lungs.

Tetsurou works himself slow, playing. He glances Kei’s way every now and again to make sure he’s still there, watching silently, waiting, until he loses himself in the feeling.

That’s where he is, snared in the heat, the movement of his own fingers inside him, when he feels a slow caress to his knee to find Kei kneeling by him on the bed, condom already on.

When did that happen?

Tetsurou’s hand is not stopping and Kei looks so pleased at that. He brings Tetsurou into a kiss, slow and breathy, feeding on the moans flowing out of him, hand cupping his cheeks soft.

“How do you want me,” Kei asks, stealing the breath from him.

“From behind,” Tetsurou sighs out. It’s how he liks it best.

Kei pulls Tetsurou’s hand away, helps position him. It’s been a while for Tetsurou, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Kei over him helps assuage that feeling.

Tetsurou prepped himself like a pro, Kei’s hum of approval when teasing his entrance with the head of his cock proving it. Kei still takes it slow, being careful.

It’s different from when he bottoms, or when his body bottoms but it’s just as good.

He cracks, giggling turning into full out laughs.

Not the best reaction, but he bets Kei body is feeling good about all the muscle flexing laughing takes.

“Tetsu, did you go down the deep end?”

“I–I thought, oh god, haha–thought about how this is what it feels like when I fuck someone.”

It takes a second or two but then Kei is laughing, too, face buried in between Tetsurou’s shoulder blades, the waves rocking his body.

Tetsurou can’t stop now, dick in his ass not as hard, spurred on by Kei joining him. It’s funny as hell. His face gets redder by the second, his eyes feeling like they’re going to pop out of his head when he, between breaths and tears, manages a, “We’re fucking ourselves.”

Kei downright shakes with laughter, laying more of his weight on Kuroo’s back, limbs too shaky to hold himself up with his hilarity. “Stop. Stop it. Please. I’m going to lose my boner.”

“Nooo, don’t,” Tetsurou howls, “you have to fuck me.”

Kei shakes, “Can’t. Laughing too hard.”

“Kei. Kei, c’mon.”

“This is your fault,” Kei almost sobs, laughs rocking his frame resonating on Tetsurou’s back.

They sober up, stray laugh or giggle breaking out from them. Kei rests his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder blade, calming himself enough to continue what they were doing. If anything, their bout of hilarity served the purpose of relaxing Tetsurou.

Kei starts slow, keeping with the mood that fell over them.

It’s not like they can take this fully seriously, so the amusement and the laughs don’t die down. They move together, soft and giggly, enjoying the moment. Tetsurou’s orgasm comes as a surprise, washes over him, leaves him sated and warm, Kei’s weight on his back.

They take a while to move, to disentangle from each other.

Tetsurou is always the little spoon. He likes the feeling of Kei around him, of their legs together, the press of an arm over him, pulling him close.

Kuroo presses a kiss to Kei’s chest.

A small part of him still aches at the fact that he can think of that as _Kei’s_ chest at first thought but most of him is basking.

They’ll be fine.

Even in the case that this is their life now, they’ll be fine.

* * *

It takes a month and a day.  
  
One month and a day from the day they switched for the first time.

He wakes up, tangled limbs and a head of hair in his nose. His first instinct is to reach for his glasses, but he can see.

What the fuck?

They’re there, sitting on the bedside table. He doesn’t need them.

Instead, he grabs them and fits himself closer to the lump next to him in his bed. “Kei.”

There’s a sleepy grunt but nothing more so he says it again, louder and shifting his weight. “Kei.”

Gold eyes are staring up at him, disoriented and covered in sleep, brow furrowed. Tetsurou slips the glasses on him, gently, as to not jam plastic into any of his fleshy parts and stares.

A couple of blinks.

“Don’t say it.”

Kuroo can’t help it. Finally, _finally_ , he lets his smile turn into a sleazy smirk. “We literally had to go fuck ourselves.”

Kei groans, burying himself further into the chest in front of him. “I hate you.”

Tetsurou laughs. Laughs again.

It feels good, like he’s home, like when you don’t realize how much something is hurting until the pain is gone. Laying a loud kiss on Kei’s curls, he says, “Don’t doubt it. Breakfast?”

It’s easier being the little spoon, now that he’s shorter again but other than that things don’t change much.

 

**Author's Note:**

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